


Little Cousin Scorpius

by lytefoot



Series: Oops! My finger slipped. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 16:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16895733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lytefoot/pseuds/lytefoot
Summary: Hey, so inspired bythis awesome tumblr roleplayby@ilvermornyintrovertand her friend (most relevant postshereandhere), I’ve written a little drabble about Teddy Lupin and Scorpius Malfoy hanging out together as little kids and being cousins.I’ve fudged the ages a bit to bring them a little closer. Featuring mild Teddy angst in the middle, because I love Teddy too much to just let him be happy. Also featuring a tantalizing excerpt from Teddy’sMartin Miggs the Mad Mugglefanfic.





	Little Cousin Scorpius

Teddy was nine when he first met his great-aunt Narcissa. His gram had been going to her house for tea occasionally for a few months, but this was the first time great-aunt Narcissa had come to their cottage. Teddy knew it was a big deal, because gram and Harry had had a very polite conversation about it; when they were being that polite to each other, it meant they weren’t shouting about something.

Ultimately, though, Teddy didn’t see what the big deal was. Aunt Narcissa was a little stiff, and she corrected Teddy’s posture and told him to hold his teacup properly, but she seemed nice enough for a prim old lady. The second time she visited, she brought Teddy a stuffed unicorn the size of a Golden Retriever. Teddy considered himself a little old for stuffed toys, but it was pretty incredible, anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

It was another year before Teddy went with his gram to visit Aunt Narcissa’s house. Teddy didn’t want to go. It was the first sunny day after a week of rain, in the weeks leading up to Teddy’s eleventh birthday, and Teddy just wanted to play outside, maybe go to the Burrow and see if there were any cousins to play with. But, “At any rate, Narcissa’s grandson is visiting, he’s about your age. You could play with him.”

That won Teddy over, honestly. _About your age_ was a heck of a draw—all the Weasley cousins were younger than he was, and most of them were a _lot_ younger. Plus, and he felt guilty even thinking it… but there was something appealing about meeting a cousin that was really his.

When he actually met Scorpius, though, Teddy felt very strongly that he’d been scammed. Scorpius was _not_ “about his age,” Scorpius was four. He supposed that when you were a hundred years old, like his gram and Aunt Narcissa, there wasn’t that big a difference between four and almost-eleven. But Scorpius was _James’s_ age. It wasn’t “play with him” age, it was “keep an eye on him, Teddy” age. And Teddy didn’t mind babysitting, he really didn’t. He liked little kids, and he liked being helpful. But he liked to be _asked_. He didn’t like to be _conned_ into it.

So he sat on the floor in what Narcissa had called _the nursery_ and scowled. Scorpius didn’t seem to notice, eagerly showing Teddy all of his toys, the rocking horse and the toy soldiers and the blocks. Teddy did not want to play with a rocking horse or blocks. He wanted to play outside. It was probably going to rain again tomorrow, and here he was, sitting in a _nursery_ , babysitting a four-year-old. It didn’t really matter that Scorpius seemed… disproportionately excited to have another kid to play with. This wasn’t what Teddy had signed up for.

Finally, Teddy had had enough. “Can we go play in the garden?”

Scorpius looked up from the demonstration block tower he was building in an attempt to get Teddy out of his funk. “It’s all muddy in the garden,” he said.

Teddy shrugged. “That’s okay. A little mud won’t hurt us.” He leaned forward. “Come on. Show me your garden.”

“Okay!” Very persuadable. This could actually be a lot more fun. The Weasleys this age all knew him well enough to be suspicious.

The garden behind Aunt Narcissa’s townhouse was less promising than Teddy had hoped, but better than a bloody _nursery_. It was small, with high fences on every side and a small shed at the back. “Hey, is that the broom shed?” Because the fence was plenty high for some low flying, and there wasn’t much else to do out here, no trees worth climbing, no swings, no ponds for finding frogs and plants and fish.

“I’m not s’posed to go in the broom shed,” Scorpius told him, confirming what it was. Then he grinned a little bit. He was starting to recognize a pattern. “Besides,” he said. “It’s locked.”

“Well, I’m bigger, and I say it’s okay,” Teddy announced. He could definitely be a bad influence on this one. If they’d wanted him to be responsible, they should have asked him to babysit. “Locked, is it?” 

> _“You aren’t teaching him to pick locks, are you, George?” Grandma Molly had been standing, arms crossed, in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Teddy swore Grandma Molly used magic to keep an eye on his Weasley uncles._
> 
> _“No, mum,” uncle George had lied sincerely. “I’m just telling him a story.”_
> 
> _Harry had slipped past Grandma Molly as she turned back to the kitchen, sat down on the floor next to Teddy. “Picking locks? Really?” he’d asked._
> 
> _“Hey. This is a life-skill. And what mum doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”_
> 
> _Harry had considered that for a moment, shrugged. “Okay, point,” he conceded. To Teddy, “Although, there really isn’t any need for Andromeda know Uncle George taught you this, either.”_
> 
> _Of course there was no need for his gram to know Uncle George taught him to pick locks. Just like there was no need for Ginny to know that Teddy actually liked the Latin lessons he complained so much about, and no need for Harry to know that Teddy picked cartoons based on what he thought Harry would like to watch. Like there was no need for any of them to know that Teddy sometimes wondered whether everyone would still like him if he was like his dad instead of like his mum. Knowing how to pick locks was one of Teddy’s favorite secrets._

Teddy was grinning as he tucked the bent paper clip back into his pocket. The lock on the broom shed had been positively _medieval_. Harry said that purebloods were really bad at thinking of solutions that _didn’t_ involve magic; Teddy was pretty sure the lock would have been hard to unlock magically, especially with the way his hair had all stuck straight up when he started to wiggle the paper clip. But now the door of the broom shed was swinging open, and Scorpius was staring up at him with wide, awed eyes. “Come on, little cousin,” Teddy announced. “Let me teach you how to fly.”

An hour later, Scorpius had just face-planted into the deepest mud puddle in the garden for the third time. Teddy suspected he was doing it on purpose; honestly, it looked kind of fun, the giant plumes of mud flying everywhere. The smaller boy was a uniform mud-brown from head to foot, while Teddy was only muddy where the splashes had hit him. They were both giggling hysterically. Aunt Narcissa opened the garden door and _screamed_.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually, though, they were allowed to see each other again. The next time, they were at Teddy’s house, which meant that Teddy got to introduce Scorpius to cartoons, gathered conspiratorially around the telly that Aunt Hermione had gotten him. Teddy wondered how else he could be a bad influence.

Five years later, though, it was Scorpius that introduced Teddy to something called “you-tube.” Apparently Scorpius’s mum had been fascinated by the entire _cartoons_ business, started to seriously collect muggle electronics. Nine-year-old Scorpius could call up all sorts of movies on something called an “iPhone”. Teddy immediately wanted one. He was bitterly disappointed to discover that they didn’t work at Hogwarts.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the summer before Teddy’s seventh year. He’d spent most of the summer in his room, with earbuds in. Every time he stuck his head out, someone wanted to tell him how proud they were that he’d made Head Boy, or ask him about his career plans, or generally insist that he was now, for all intents and purposes, a grown up.

Teddy would rather listen to moody music on his iPhone—mercifully, it at least worked at home—and write in his diary.

_Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle gazed up at him, crystal blue orbs sparkling. “Oh, but sempai,” he breathed—_

Teddy’s bedroom door opened, and Teddy, blushing furiously, shoved the diary under his mattress, whirled toward it. “ _What_.”

In the doorway, Scorpius rolled his eyes, burst into a grin. “Okay, but seriously. You have to see this dance video.”


End file.
